"You clean the cupboards then I'll do the table."
John said with a panicked voice, obviously stressed. Why wouldn't he be? He was meeting up with Mary after all!
"Mrs Hudson you need to be quicker! We have only done the living room yet and Mary is coming in..." he looked at his watch. "Two hours!"
"John, aren't you over exaggerating a bit? It's just a girl. You have had ten!" Mrs Hudson said, while putting all the used cups in the sink to wash.
"This is different Mrs Hudson! This is... Mary."
John said, lovingly sighing at the thought of her.
They were cleaning the kitchen together, which Sherlock didn't exactly clean before... you know... This wasn't easy for John nor for Mrs Hudson. At least they didn't have to do the bedroom yet.
John swallowed, holding back the wave of sorrow. He still had them sometimes but he had learned to deal with them and now even felt them coming. He couldn't deal with this now. He needed to clean.
At least it wasn't that much. He just needed to put some beakers away and then he was done with the table. "Okay, done!"
"I'm also nearly done.." Mrs Hudson said, she then accidentally dropped the last of the dirty cups, then did a bit of thinking and said with a chuckle. "Now I am done."
John immediately walked over to the side of the room. In a corner stood an old mop and a broom. John grabbed the broom and started to clean the mess Mrs Hudson made.
She hesitated for a moment and then asked:
"Well then, shall I make some tea downstairs?"
"Yes, please!"
After he had finished cleaning up the remains of the blue cup, Johns eyes then went to the other side of the room, the fridge. The fridge. The fridge!
They had forgotten to clean the fridge!
Okay, shouldn't be that difficult. John walked to the door and without hesitation he pulled it open.
"Aw, Sherlock!" John cried when he saw a bowl of... a bowl of... what even was it?
Okay, those are elbows. He decided. Why does... did Sherlock always have something human in the fridge?
And why had John been haunted by mysterious elbows the last few weeks?!
Suddenly, Mrs Hudson came rushing through the door. "Uhm John?" she managed to say, shaking. "Y... you have a client."
"A client? But Sherlock... isn't here to solve the case!"
"He insists on speaking with John Watson."
John was confused, yet flattered. Someone noticed him? He took a quick look at his watch. Still one hour left.
"Well, bring him up then" John said, with a bit of pride in his voice. There was a client, waiting for HIM!
He set the chair in its place. Oh, he had missed this.
He was a little anxious though. He hadn't been able to solve any case up till now, and he was afraid that that wouldn't change anytime soon.
He sat down in his chair and waited for the footsteps on the stairs. He didn't have to wait long, for he heard them almost instantly. He had time to quickly straighten the pen, lying on the little table next to him and then the client entered.
His entrance was not the normal, client-y entrance. Most people coming to sit in that chair were afraid, scared even. This mystery man was not. He came in, full of self-confidence. "Are you John Watson?"
"Yes I am," John said, followed by a bowing gesture, in a hopeless attempt to brighten up the mood. He was still figuring out how this apparantly Ukrainian man -judging by his accent- needed him.
"I heard you are a good detective. I have a case for you," the Ukrainian man said while sitting down in the chair.
"Oh I am sorry, I think you are looking for Sherlock." The disappointment was dripping off John's face.
"Well then, where is this Sherlock?"
"I'm afraid he past away last month." John replied, his eyes shooting to Sherlock's chair.
"Okay, then you have to solve my case." The Ukrainian guy said, seemingly getting annoyed.
"I am sorry mister, I can't solve anything! I'm going to have to ask you to go."
I'm going to have to ask you to go, Sherlock was normally the person saying that, only in other contexts.
"You are going to regret this, Watson. You are going to wish you had taken my case!" Then the guy just walked out of the door, this was not what John had expected.